


Virgil’s bed wetting problem

by magicalcookie664



Series: Sanders sides omo :D [11]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Bed-Wetting, Crying, Nightmares, Omorashi, Post-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Remus being Remus, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24701395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalcookie664/pseuds/magicalcookie664
Summary: For the request:” Bedwetting plz? Don’t care who (tho I have headcanons abt it being Virgil or Jay) but whomever you see fit to embarrass.”I chose to embarrass Virgil, sorry Virge. :pHeed the tags :3
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Sanders sides omo :D [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676914
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	Virgil’s bed wetting problem

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt took me millennia to write I’m sorry - this isn’t the best I’ve done but hey it’s not the worst. 
> 
> Could be seen as a prequel to the others Virgil bedwetting fic I wrote that we don’t talk about - 
> 
> We REALLY don’t talk about it -

It's 2am and Virgil's lugging his sodden sheets into the kitchen, his pyjama pants sodden and cold against his legs. He reaches the room and slips inside as quietly possible, not wanting to wake Dee or Remus up - knowing Remus he's probably still awake doing whatever strange thing his impulsive self finds interest in. He nudges the door closed behind him. The only light comes from the windows above the sink that spill in a dull faded white glow. 

He kicks open the washer door and pushes the blankets inside before closing it again. If someone comes in, they'll definitely want to know why he's washing his sheets in the early hours of the morning. He doesn't want that. He doesn't need that. He presses a few buttons on the side of the washer and adds the soap pod to the little tray beside the timer. He watches as his dark purple sheets begin to spin around in the circular machine. 

He glances at the fridge, feeling thirsty but not trusting himself to drink anything in case he falls asleep and has another nightmare again. He realises with a sigh that his trousers still bare the evidence of his accident. He'll have to wash them tomorrow. With a final glance at the washer, he turns and leaves the room, pulling his hood up over his face. He doesn't want to be seen. 

"Virgil~" Remus purrs, grinning up at him from where he sits on the stairs, a half-eaten stick of deodorant in his right hand. 

Virgil blows out a sigh. Remus is blocking the way up to his room. He just wants to go back upstairs, change out of his gross trousers and watch YouTube for the rest of the night. "Move," he hisses, shooting Remus his signature glare.

Remus just laughs, his eyes falling to the wet patch on Virgil's pyjamas. "Did Virgie wet the bed again?" He mocks, smirking. 

Virgil goes bright red. "What? N.. no I just split coffee," he lies, tugging at the strings of his hoodie to yank the hood further over his head. 

Without warning Remus leans forward and sniffs at the damp fabric of Virgil's trousers. 

"Hey!" Virgil exclaims, jumping backwards, his arms wrapping around himself instinctively. He stares at Remus with wide eyes, incredulous. "Why did you do that?" He questions, frowning. 

"To prove my point," Remus replies, taking a bite of his deodorant. "You smell like piss and you can't deny it~" he continues in a sing-song voice. 

"Shut up," Virgil snarls,"Just let me get up the stairs,"

Remus moves, dropping a few crumbs of deodorant onto the stairs as he does so, his grin still equally irritating. 

Virgil pushes past him and hurries up the stairs as quickly as he can, frustrated beyond belief. It's not like he made a conscious choice to pee himself, is it? It's not like he said 'you know what I'd really like? Vivid nightmares every time I close my eyes. Wouldn't that be wonderful?' He's the embodiment of anxiety, these things just happen to him. 

He escapes into his room and locks the door behind him, able to be alone. He kicks off the disgusting trousers - he'll have to shower in the morning - and tugs on his spare pair of Nightmare Before Christmas pyjamas. He flops down on his bed, ignoring the tears brimming in his eyes as he goes to pick up his phone. He's got a text from Remus. It's an image. He deletes it without opening it, deciding some things just shouldn't be looked at. He slips his headphones over his head and watches his favourite youtube channel. The sight of the youtuber smiling at him from the screen makes him feel a little better about himself, if only for a moment. It almost feels as if this person is talking to him, as if they know who he is. 

He stays up the rest of the night watching video after video, forcing his eyes to open every time they droop closed. He won't allow himself to sleep again tonight; he knows it'll bring nightmares and nightmares bring accidents. He can't afford two in one night.

-

Virgil's tired. He swipes the black under his eyes although he technically doesn't need it today - the dark circles from lack of sleep are prominent enough. He always has circles under his eyes though, just some days they're more visible than others depending on how well he slept. 

They're filming another video today so naturally here he is, perched on Thomas's stairs with a cocky smirk carefully placed on his face. He doesn't feel like doing his job today, but that's neither here nor there. The others pay him little attention, as expected, so he allows himself to stare into space, thinking about what food he wants for dinner. He fancies a pizza if he's honest. His eyes slide closed. He's just so tired. 

"Anxiety! Are you sleeping?" Roman exclaims like it's the worst thing in the world.

Virgil's head snaps up. "Hmm?" He mumbles, managing to keep his eyes open long enough to blearily glance around the room. The others are all staring at him. Patton looks concerned, Logan unreadable, Roman annoyed and Thomas interested. 

"Anxiety, when did you go to sleep last night, kiddo?" Patton questions, sending Virgil his signature Dad™ look. 

Virgil doesn't respond. 

Patton frowns, his concerned expression intensifying. "Do I have to force you to sleep?" He asks, his tone relatively light, though Virgil can hear the slight edge in his voice. 

"No," Virgil snaps, glaring downwards. "You should be focusing on the fridge. You forgot to close it, Thomas," he turns to look at their host, fixing him with his usual look. 

Thomas's eyes grow wide. "Oh no.." He mumbles," I'll have to go check that-" he turns and leaves the room. 

Roman rolls his eyes. "What is your issue, honestly?" He demands. 

Virgil doesn't answer that either. He flips Princey off before sinking out. As soon as he arrives back in the dark side's section of the mind place, he flops onto the couch and falls asleep, his face pressed into the cushions. 

\- 

He jolts awake with a gasp, his head snapping upwards as soon as his eyes open. He's sprawled across the couch, the shape of a blanket he can't remember having when he fell asleep tangled around his trembling limbs. He looks down and realises with dismay that he's soaked through his trousers again, the large stain swamping a good deal of the fabric. He's managed to get some on the couch as well, which is just perfect. How could he let this happen again?

He stands up shakily, observing the damage done to the furniture. It's not too bad, but it's definitely visible to anyone walking past. The thought of people noticing makes him want to cry. He wishes he knew how to stop this happening, but he doesn't. He's utterly at a loss about what to do. 

Remy decides to make an appearance, popping up from behind the couch with a large creepy grin. "Helloooo Virgie~" he purrs, his eyes immediately falling to Virgil's trousers. 

"Go away," Virgil hisses, snatching up the blanket and wrapping it around himself to cover the stain. 

"I'll tell Dee it was me who pissed on the couch," Remus remarks,"The others won't know,"

"What do you want?" Virgil snaps, wrapping the blanket even tighter around himself. 

"You definitely don't want me to answer that question," Remus replies, grinning at Virgil before turning and leaving the room, tiny crumbs of deodorant scattering the carpet in his wake. 

Virgil doesn't know what to think.

-

After he was accepted by the light sides, things became a little easier. The nightmares grew less frequent, slightly less vivid, easier to forget. He experienced something he never had before: people who genuinely cared for his wellbeing. It was a little overwhelming at first, but he grew accustomed to it after a while. 

He's doing wonderfully, all things considered. He hasn't wet the bed since he was accepted, meaning none of them know about it. He prefers to keep it that way. If it's no longer a problem, there's no point in talking about it, is there? 

This changes after a particularly gruelling few days where he worked overtime, thrown into multiple anxiety attacks repeatedly, resulting in little or no sleep. He's exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open but somehow he manages to stumble into his bedroom and reach his bed, not even bothering to close the door behind him. He falls asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow. 

When he wakes up with a jolt a measly five hours later, he's immediately aware that he's peeing. He cries out, jamming his hands between his legs in a feeble attempt to stop it. Alas, he's started now and it's practically impossible to stop. So he watches in horror as he soaks through his clothes and bedsheets, the gigantic wet patch spreading through his purple duvet. 

When he finally finishes he sits there in shock, shifting uncomfortably in the pool of his own pee. He thought he was over this. He thought he was over this. He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes, trying to will the tears away. There's no point in crying. He can barely remember the nightmare at this point, so there's no reason for him to be upset. 'Get up, you idiot,' he tells himself,'Just get up and wash the sheets,' 

He buries his face in his knees and cries, feeling utterly pathetic. He thought he was rid of this terrible bedwetting curse, yet here it is, returning to him when he least expects it. 

The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside cause him to freeze. He hurriedly wipes the tears from his eyes but it does little as he's unable to stop crying. 

Patton appears in the doorway, his expression concerned. "Virgil, kiddo, are you okay?" He asks tentatively. 

Virgil shakes his head, realising lying would be pointless; Patton can see he's crying. 

"Can I come in?" The moral side asks. 

Virgil nods,"Mhm.." he mumbles, bringing his soaked knees into his chest. He stares at the wet patch on the duvet, feeling utterly embarrassed. 

Patton slowly enters and closes the door behind him, choosing to seat himself at the end of Virgil's bed. He takes in the sight before him with a little gasp. Instead of mocking him or laughing, Patton sighs, a sympathetic expression overcoming his face. "Did you have a nightmare?" He questions softly. 

"Y..yeah.." Virgil stutters, wiping his eyes on his sleeve,"M'sorry.."

"Hey, don't apologise, kiddo. It's okay. Do you want help cleaning up?" Patton responds, offering his hand to Virgil. 

Virgil thinks for a moment before taking it, muttering a quiet,"Thank you.." No ones ever been this accepting of this issue of his before. It feels.... nice? Maybe that's not the right word, as he wishes it never happened in the first place. It doesn't feel bad though, so at least there's that.


End file.
